


Black Eyes

by SushiOwl



Series: Black, White and Grey [1]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Demon!Stiles, Demonic Possession, Dirty Talk, M/M, Pre-Slash, Supernatural/Teen Wolf, kind of
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-09-13
Updated: 2013-09-13
Packaged: 2017-12-26 11:01:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,011
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/965177
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SushiOwl/pseuds/SushiOwl
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>There's something not quite right with Stiles.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Black Eyes

**Author's Note:**

> A prompt that was inspired by [this gifset.](http://batmanandstiles.tumblr.com/post/59947662728)

The grass in the cemetery was charred. At three in the morning lightning had struck out of nowhere with the sound of roaring, setting the ground on fire in the shape of a star. At the very center, there was a crypt that had been there for decades with a stone door that couldn't be opened. Now that door was cracked in a diagonal line and in two pieces on the ground.

The police department had no idea what to make of it, so the Sheriff turned to Chris Argent, who looked even more agitated than usual. After Chris talked to Deaton, he started gathering people for an investigation. When asked about what this was all about, Argent and Deaton had looked at each other, before Deaton said it was best not to know too much without evidence, because they didn't want everyone to get riled up. Cryptic and annoying, but so Deaton.

They went in pairs, stalking through the cemetery and looking for anything even more out of the ordinary. Chris and the sheriff were together, both toting guns. Allison was with Lydia, armed with a crossbow and a deafening scream. Scott and Isaac had paired up. Boyd and Erica were watching out for one another. Peter was with Cora.

That left Stiles and Derek together, though Derek had made a face at this. But at least Stiles was being quiet and documenting everything with his phone instead of yammering on endlessly. Derek was scenting the air, trying to get something other than burning grass and ozone, but he wasn't having much luck. He could explain why his skin was crawling the closer they got to the crypt, the hairs on his arms and neck standing on end.

Abruptly there was a gasp, and Derek looked over to find Stiles on his back. He was groaning, blinking his eyes and looking around. Stiles sat up and looked at his hands, turning them over and giving a contemplative hum. “Stiles?” Derek asked, taking a step toward him. 

Stiles looked up at him, brown eyes harsh for a second before he blinked. “I slipped.”

Derek's brows shot up, before he offered his hand to Stiles, pulling him up when he took it. Stiles didn't let him go immediately, instead pressing in to trap Derek's arm between them and dragging his eyes along Derek's body like fingertips. It made Derek's mouth go dry and half of his brain cells go out of commission. This was new. He had caught Stiles's lingering gazes on him before and even smelled his arousal a few times, but nothing this overt. 

“What are you doing?” Derek asked, and his voice wasn't nearly as even as he wanted.

Stiles eyes slowly moved back up to Derek's. “Nothing,” he said, before he licked his lips and pulled away.

From then on, Derek's concentration was split. He kept glancing at Stiles like he would be able to figure out what he was thinking. They all eventually met at the crypt, and Chris poked around it until he picked up a yellowish powder on the cracks of the door and sniffed it, making a face. Derek didn't blame him. He could tell from a few feet away that it smelled like rotten eggs. Everyone was asking questions, and Chris wasn't very forthcoming. Even Derek had his own inquiries. The only person that wasn't saying anything was Stiles.

And that was really odd.

Everyone went back to the Argent household after leaving the cemetery, and they all had their own theories about what was going on. Chris was cagey, and he stepped out to make a phone call. Derek kept looking at Stiles where he was sitting in an armchair in the corner like it was a throne, leaned back and thighs spread wide. Stiles caught him looking and ran his tongue along his teeth with a predatory smile. 

After arguing about what was what, the team decided to go to Deaton's. As they were walking out, Stiles caught Derek's arm to hold him back. “Hey,” Stiles said, looking up at him. “Can you take me to your place? I have a few ideas about what's going on, but I don't want to alarm the others.”

That was why Stiles was so withdrawn? Derek practically sagged with relief, nodding and leading Stiles over to his Camaro. The drive to his loft was silent, and Stiles was tapping his finger on his knee in a slow rhythmic away, staring out the window.

Derek let Stiles into his loft, shutting the door behind them and turning to see Stiles looking around his loft like it was a place he hadn't been to in a long time and he had to relearn it. Derek didn't know why, since Stiles had been there only a couple days ago and it's not like he redecorated.

“What ideas are you having?” Derek asked, moving toward the human.

Stiles turned his head to smirk at him over his shoulder, before he whirled on him and grabbed Derek's shirt to jerk him close and mash their lips together. Derek made some kind of noise, probably too high pitched for his liking. Stiles just held onto his head with a strength Derek hadn't known he possessed, his tongue prying Derek's mouth open and licking over his teeth.

These were not the kind of ideas that Derek was anticipating. It was such an aggressive kiss, something he never would have thought Stiles was capable of. Where had he learned to kiss like this, all tongue and teeth and dominance? There was something about it that just wasn't right, wasn't...Stiles.

Derek got his hands on Stiles's arms and pushed him back, swallowing hard at the sight of Stiles's full lips, all slick with spit and swollen red, curled up at the edges with something dark and menacing. “What are you doing?” Derek asked him after swallowing a couple times.

“Whatever I want,” Stiles purred back, his hands going right to Derek's pants to pull at the front.

Derek grabbed his wrists and jerked them away, earning a high, foreign laugh. That was not a sound that Stiles made. He was stupid and sweet and laughed with his whole body and heart. This... This wasn't... “Who are you?” Derek growled.

Stiles's expression changed, a grin splitting his face like wicked lightning, all teeth and dirty amusement. He tilted his chin back just a little, before his pupils spread over his eyes, covering brown and white like black oil. “I'm what you were looking for in the cemetery,” he said, his voice like silk and skittering bugs all the same.

Derek jerked away from him with a snarl, backing up a few steps. He could smell it now, that same scent from the crypt, the air of rotting eggs. It made his hackles rise, and he was close to baring his fangs. “Get out of him!” he demanded, pulling out his alpha voice.

The creature inside Stiles just tilted his head, continuing that sleazy smile. “I don't know, Derek. I kind of like it in here.” He took a slow step toward Derek, his head oscillating slowly in the way a snake slithers. “He's a warm and...” He took a deep breath through his nose, closing his eyes and tipping his head back just a touch to run his bottom lip through his teeth. He drew his hand up under Stiles's hoodie and shirt, lifting them to show off his flat stomach. “ _Virginal._ ”

Derek's eyes were drawn to the thin line of hair the trailed down from Stiles's navel into his pants, before he jerked his gaze away and growled at the creature.

It just made him laugh, drawing Stiles's shirts up further to thumb over one nipple. “Oh, he wants it _bad_ from you. You should see the fantasies he has in this noggin. They are creative and—” He licked those full lips. “Thorough.” He took one more step towards Derek. “Want to hear them?” 

Derek swallowed but didn't back away even when that purr stirred things in him he was too ashamed to admit to. “No,” he bit out, only partly a lie. He did want to know, but not from this _monster._

The creature slitted its black eyes in amusement, reaching out to run clever fingers along Derek's chest. “He has a bit of a size kink, this one. He loves the fact that you're so tall and made of muscle. He wants you to grab him and hold him down. He wants you to take him apart.”

Upper lip twitching, Derek showed his teeth. “Stop it,” he barked.

The creature just licked his lips, watching the hand he was using to trace over Derek's clavicle. “He wants you in such a _primal_ way. He wants you to unleash your animal side on him. He wants you to write your claim all over his skin with your lips and teeth.” The creature lifted his chin to look at Derek's face. “He wants you to use your wolf's strength and to feel it for days after you fuck him.”

Derek gnashed his teeth at the creature, grabbing him by the neck and turning to slam him into a wall. “Shut up! Shut the _fuck_ up!” he screamed at him.

The creature just let out a manic laugh, reaching up to hold the back of Derek's hand and pull it even tighter into his neck. “What are you doing to do, dog? Strangle him? Rip out his throat?” He just licked his lips as Derek's expression faded a little. “C'mon, do it. Get those claws out and tear into this pale, supple flesh. Kill him! Do it!” The creature tightened his fingers around Derek's wrist. “Doesn't matter to me. I'll just get another meat suit.”

Derek swallowed, his hand slackening on Stiles's neck before he dropped his arm entirely. The creature cackled low and dangerous, lifting his hand to brush the backs of his knuckles across Derek's cheek and down his neck. “That's what I thought. You can't hurt him because he's just as important to you as you are to him.” He trailed his hand down to splay it on Derek's chest. “Pathetic.”

With a strangled cry, Derek flew back like he had been nailed in the chest with a wrecking ball, and he skidded across the floor, hacking and coughing. He managed to pull himself up onto his elbow, but Stiles was gone, leaving only an echoing laugh behind. 

Derek sped all the way over to the Argent house and nearly broke down the door with his pounding. He snarled in the man's face when he opened it, stomping inside and grabbing the front of Chris's shirt to bring them inches apart. “There's something inside of him, something from the crypt!”

“Who?” Chris asked, awfully calm for being face to face with someone a heartbeat from wolfing out.

“Stiles!” Derek replied, pushing Chris away. “It's something disgusting and evil, and it smells like that stuff you found in the cemetery.”

“Sulfur,” Chris clarified. “Does it have black eyes?”

“Yes,” Derek answered, the adrenaline coursing through him causing his hands to shake now. “What's wrong with him? What's _in_ him?”

“A demon.”

Derek stared for a long time, trying to find a slot in his brain to put that where it would make any sense. “A demon?” he asked slowly, and Chris just nodded. “There are...?” He took a deep breath, staggering back until his back hit a wall. He swallowed a few times, his mouth and throat so dry that they made a clicking sound. 

So Stiles was _possessed?_ A real possession a la The Exorcist?

“How...” Derek tried, but his voice was like a croak so he tried again. “How do we help him?”

Chris took a deep breath, crossing his arms. “I've called a couple of guys I know who are experts in this kind of stuff. You could say it's their... family business.”

Derek stared at him, full body trembling now, and all he could do was nod.

**Author's Note:**

> I liked writing demon!Stiles a lot.
> 
> I am always taking prompts. If you have any for me, [hit me up.](http://sushiowl.tumblr.com/post/60489708862/give-me-tw-prompts)


End file.
